This is a little sketch I scanned from my sketchbook. It is not a very clean drawing, but it clearly illustrates a memory from my youth.
I used to hang out with this little kid, and he would drive us around in this egg-shaped car that had helicopter wings on top. I usually had to drink a lot of liquor, because my little kid friend was not a very good driver. The alcohol helped me deal with my terrible fear of dying in a fiery car accident. Of course we ended up having accidents, but I was fortunate, I had the constitution of a bear, so when we did end up in those wrecks, I didn't suffer too badly. A little scratch here, a little scratch there. And my little driving companion didn't ever get hurt either, thank the good lord.
I will rehash other memories in the coming months on this blog... I had a period of time where I was a bear priest in Southern Mexico. Also went through a period where I made my living as a bear wrestler (I mean I was a bear that wrestled, not someone who wrestled bears, at least I didn't consistently wrestle other bears. I did fight against psychotic steroid popping gophers, transexual myopic raccoons ridden with rabies, and 3-legged 1-eyed crocodiles who had leather fetishes. I digress. But I do have to mention, not without some pride, that I won all those fights.).
This wrestling faze, like my career as a bear priest, took place in Mexico. I actually have quite a few wonderful memories from my time in Mexico.
I remember driving a car that exploded fire out of the exhausts. It was pretty great. Until I barbecued some innocent pedestrians...
